Page 4
Nov 21, 2018
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
By Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
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What do a creepy little girl, an angel, a devil, a unicorn, and a four-armed, four-eyed boy all have in common?
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